Cold City (Repairman Jack - the Early Years Trilogy) (21 page)

The Ghost had struck again.

2

Kadir hid a yawn as the limo swayed along a rutted road.  He hadn’t been sleeping well since all the excitement Monday night; here it was almost dawn and he hadn’t slept at all since yesterday morning.  He might have been more awake if he were behind the wheel, but he had no license and Tachus wanted someone more experienced, someone familiar with Staten Island.  Kadir fitted neither description.  The man to his left in the driver seat, who he knew only as Osman, fit both.

All in all, six men on the mission – four here in the rented limo, and two more in the truck, also rented.  Both Faraq in the back seat with Tachus, and Saleem in the truck, worked with Kadir in Tachus’s uncle’s place.  They had all gathered at a kabob shop and left from there.  Kadir knew no one but Tachus, and would have preferred to stay safe at home, but Tachus had insisted he come along.  Of the original group of four approached by the man from Qatar, only Kadir and Tachus remained free.  Sayyid was in custody in a hospital recovering from his wound, and Mahmoud was being held as a material witness.

“I ask you,” Tachus said from the rear seat, “what did you three accomplish? What?  If you’re going to strike a blow for jihad, choose a worthy target.  This rabbi had few followers and little influence.  Even the Israelis didn’t want him.  Only two days now and you cannot find mention of him in the papers.”

Kadir said nothing.  He was glad Kahane was dead, but not glad that Sayyid had suffered a bullet in the neck.

Tachus lapsed back into silence as he studied the directions given him by the man from Qatar. 

“It should be at the end of this road,” he told the driver.

They cruised into a low, flat, marshy area.  Kadir didn’t see any way out besides the path they’d come in.

“This is the place,” Tachus said.  “Drive to the far side and turn around.  That way we will be facing them when they arrive.”

The limo driver did as he was told and the truck followed.

When they were situated, Tachus said, “Leave the engines running.”

“What is going to happen?” Kadir said as sweat pooled in his armpits. 

Monday night he had been just a lookout.  Tonight he was a full participant.  He admitted – only to himself – that he was frightened.

“They are bringing two trucks, but small, and both their cargoes should fit nicely into our big truck.”

Cargo…no one wanted to say “little girls.” 

Tachus had told him over and over how the Quran allowed slaves, but Kadir wasn’t so sure about selling children, even if they were infidels.  He was glad his mother and father were far, far away.  They would be ashamed of him, even if the ultimate purpose was for the glory of Allah and jihad.  They would say, Find another way, because… little girls…

“We do not know these men, do we,” Kadir said.

“No.  Nasser brokered the deal.”

“Then they know we have money… lots of money.”  He saw danger.

“
Nasser’s
money.  He arranged this.  He would not put such a fortune in jeopardy.”

Kadir didn’t care about money in jeopardy.  How about him?

“That is why we brought these,” Tachus said, handing a revolver to Kadir.  “We are all armed.  Now you are too.  I’ve seen you shoot.   That is why I brought you along.”

Kadir’s fatigue vanished as he hefted the weapon.  It reminded him of Sayyid’s .357 Magnum.  Suddenly he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  He glanced through the windshield and saw headlights.

“Look!”

“Quickly!” Tachus said, poking his shoulder.  “Get out and stay out of sight by the side of the car.  Keep your gun ready.  I don’t expect any problems, but we are dealing with infidels.  Allah rewards honesty in trade, but these do not follow Allah.  I do not want any surprises unless they come from us.  We must be prepared.”

Kadir slipped out the door and crouched near the rear fender as two trucks approached the boggy clearing.

3

Jack had been to every NYC borough except Staten Island; he knew nothing about it.  All he did was follow the written directions Reggie had given him.  He took his usual route until he reached the two-thirds point into Jersey, then turned east over the Outerbridge Crossing onto Staten Island.  He recognized the man-made mountain of the landfill – everyone knew about that – but the rest was terra incognita. 

Follow this highway, turn on that boulevard, go down this road…

Finally he pulled to a stop at the edge of a marsh in a deserted lowland.  He thought he could see houses in the distance through the trees that rimmed the area, but they seemed far off. 

Those rosy fingers were stroking the sky again.  Fifty yards away, a large truck – big enough to hold all the girls – idled next to a black Lincoln Town Car.  He jotted down the license plates of both on the sheet of directions, but didn’t know why.  Maybe they’d come in handy later.

Later…what about now?  He pounded his fists on the steering wheel.  He’d driven all night, ferrying a truckload of young girls – children – toward a future of horrendous abuse, and still he had no plan.

Reggie pulled his truck to a stop to the right of Jack’s.  He hopped out and opened Jack’s passenger door.  He’d added a gray hoodie to his ensemble.

“I gotta go talk to them.”

“Want me to come along?”

“Hey, no.  Moose usually handles this so I’ll be playing it by ear.  We got money and shit to discuss.  Plus, these are new customers, so it might take me a little longer.  You stay here with the product.”

Product…Christ, how he’d come to hate that word.

Jack’s offer to go along had been bogus.  He’d been counting on Reggie turning him down.  He wanted to stay with the truck.  He kept it idling while he examined his options.

He could take off now and save his half of the girls.  That would mean the end of Tony, but…

Yeah…
but
.  Risk Tony’s life to save fourteen girls from being sold as sex slaves.  One life for fourteen, or fourteen lives for one. 

He shook his head.  Who was he to make that decision?  Good question.  The answer: his decision, by default.  He was the only one behind the wheel, the only one with the option.  A judgment call.

But if he took off with his girls, what happened to Reggie’s group?  Would they be switched to the other truck and carted off? Jack had the license plate number, but was it even real?  Could he get to a phone in time to tell the cops to stop it?

Too many questions, too many ways for things to go wrong.

As Reggie approached the other vehicles, two men stepped out of the limo and another pair from the cab of the truck.  Two had towels wrapped around their heads, the others wore pillboxes, all four wore ankle-length thobes – he knew what they were called now because he’d looked it up. 

“Holy–”

Mohammedans.  Two looked familiar.  He was pretty sure they’d helped unload the cigarettes at the Mummy’s place, but in the dim light he couldn’t be sure.  He had the impression that someone remained in the Town Car.  The Mummy himself?

He saw Reggie lean into the rear compartment.

4

“The deal was for thirty,” Kadir heard Tachus say.

He remained in a crouch, revolver ready, looking up at the lighted interior of the car.  He could see neither Tachus nor the driver, but he could hear them.

“We had a little spoilage,” the driver replied.  “It’s a long trip.  Y’gotta expect that.”

“We will adjust the payment accordingly.”

“Fair enough.  But since we’ve never dealt with you before, I gotta see the money before this goes any further.”

“Of course.  Osman!”  Tachus raised his voice and spoke in Arabic.  “Open the trunk and let him see.”  He lowered it again and returned to English.  “And you – do not be foolish.  We are honest businessmen, but we will protect what is ours.”

Kadir smiled as he envisioned Tachus showing the driver a pistol.

“Hey, no need for that.  We’re businessmen too.  We just want to get paid what was agreed on and be on our way.”

“Good.  Then there will be no problem.”

Kadir heard the trunk open, heard a zipper slide, followed by rummaging sounds.  He peeked and saw a thin, scruffy man with hair cut short in the front and long at the back of his neck.  After a while…

“Okay,” the driver said as the trunk slammed and he returned to Tachus.  “Looks good.  Let’s make the transfer.”

“We will need to inspect the cargo.”

“What’s that mean?”

“You understand, of course, that we must make sure the count is correct and that there are no damaged goods.”

“They’re all fine.”

“So you say.  But as you also said, we have never dealt with you before.  Your idea of ‘fine’ may not agree with ours.”

“All right, all right.  But we gotta make this fast.  Gonna be light soon.”

“Back one of your trucks up to ours and we will transfer one at a time.”

“That’s gonna take time.”

“If all is as it should be, this will not take long.  But I will not pay for damaged goods.”

“Shit, okay.  Let’s just get this show rolling.”

The driver moved away, but Kadir maintained his position, unsure of what Tachus wanted him to do.  As his legs started to cramp he began to rise, but froze as he heard a new voice say, “Hello, fucker!”

A stream of bullets shattered the rear passenger widow.  Blood and brains and bits of glass sprayed into the night over Kadir’s head, spraying him.

Someone – the driver? – was attacking with a machine gun!

5

Jack watched Reggie talk, gesture to the trucks, then one of the robed guys opened the Lincoln’s trunk and showed him something.  Jack couldn’t see what it was, but the way the glow from the courtesy lights within lit up Reggie’s face reminded Jack of the suitcase in
Kiss Me Deadly
.  Money, he supposed. 

Whatever.  Reggie seemed satisfied.  The trunk was closed and Reggie headed back toward Jack’s truck.  He opened the passenger door again.

“They want to check out the product.”

That word again.

Jack unclenched his teeth.  “What’s that mean?  They bring a gynecologist along?”

“A what?”

“Never mind.  What do we do?”

“Back your truck up to the back of theirs.  We transfer the girls one at a time and–”

A rapid series of pops followed by cries of pain and terror cut him off.  Two ski-masked figures had emerged from the brush and were shooting everyone in sight.  One was firing into the rear compartment of the Town Car.

“Oh, shit!” Reggie cried as he jumped in.  “Go!”

Jack sat frozen in shock, unable to respond as he watched the Mohammedans drop.  The two attackers each carried some sort of submachine gun with a long silencer on the barrel.  They moved quickly and operated with deadly efficiency. One of the Mohammedans pulled out a pistol but never got a chance to fire it.  In seconds all four were down.  

“What–?”

“Go-go-go!”  He rammed a fist against Jack’s shoulder.  “Get the fuck outa here!”

The punch did it.  Jack shook off the paralysis, slammed the truck into DRIVE, and stomped the gas.  As he yanked the wheel hard to the right, a spray of bullets stitched the hood and smashed the passenger window.  Reggie screamed like a girl and ducked, slipping to the floor.  Jack kept driving. 

As the truck angled away, the shooters lost their line of sight on the cab.  Jack prayed they wouldn’t keep shooting – they’d hit the girls.  But a glance in the passenger-side mirror showed that they’d shifted their interest from the truck to the Town Car, then they were lost from view.

“Who are they?” Jack shouted.  His heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of his chest.

Reggie straightened from the floor.  “Dunno!”  He was panting like he’d just finished running a marathon.

Jack felt a little short of breath too.  An ambush was the last thing he’d expected.

“What do they want?”

“The money, what else?  There’s three mil in the trunk of that car.”

“Three–!”

“Hey, a hundred grand apiece for the product.”

“You say ‘product’ once more and I’m going to punch out your lights.”

“What?  Who the fuck you think–?”

Jack gave him a shove that bounced him off the door.  “You heard me.”

He stared at Jack in shock for a second, then reached for his waistband. 

Oh, no.  Going for his pistol –

But he came up empty-handed. 

“Shit!  The gun and the phone are back in my truck!”

“You were going to
shoot
me?”

“I don’t–”  He shook his head.  “Just don’t you ever lay a hand on me again.”

“Fine.  And you just remember what I said.”

Jack reached the pavement and picked up speed.  Reggie had mentioned the phone.  Christ!  Tony!

“When did you last call in with the code word or whatever it was?”

“Just before I got out of the truck.  Told Tommy we were at the spot.”

“We’ve got to find a phone before twenty minutes are up.”

“Keep driving!  And don’t worry.  We were just kidding about killing him.  Moose’s idea to make you cooperate.  We ain’t killers.”

Jack wasn’t buying that.  But even if he was telling the truth, what would they do if they found Moose?

Reggie was peering in his rearview.  “Don’t see nobody.  Had to be the money – that was all they wanted.”  He slammed the dashboard.  “Shit!  How’d they know?”

“Who cares?  What if they come after us?  We had one gun between us and now we don’t have any.”

“Hey, I couldn’t walk up to the buyers carrying.  And no one’s coming after us.  I mean, what for?  They was wearing masks.  We can’t identify them.”

Good point.  Reggie was obviously more attuned to this sort of situation than Jack.  But Jack was more concerned about the girls.  These were safe, but what about the others?

“What do you think they’ll do with your truck?”

Reggie shrugged.  “Who cares?  It’s rented with a credit card that don’t belong to nobody.  Ain’t worried about the truck.  The prod–”  He cut off.  “The girls are what worry me.”